


The Art of Deception

by Fearcutsdeeperthanswords



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Friendship/Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-11 13:54:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2070807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fearcutsdeeperthanswords/pseuds/Fearcutsdeeperthanswords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arya Stark returns home to Winterfell in order to find her family and herself. Will she let love find her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of Deception

Arya Stark gripped the ledge of the balcony that overlooked the courtyard. Her knuckles turned as white as the snow that fell around her, she could barely breathe. Though part of the reason for that, she knew, was the tight dress that she was wearing, making her seem like a proper lady. The other part, however, had to do with the fact that she was finally home, though; it didn’t feel much like her home. 

The last time that she had looked upon Winterfell was when her father, sister, and she had left for King’s Landing all of those years ago. In her absence, Winterfell had been sacked and burned by Ramsey Snow, the bastard of the man who had killed her mother and her oldest brother, Robb. Stannis Baratheon had put an end to Roose Bolton and his bastard Ramsey, as well as their men. In the process, Stannis was fatally wounded, but before he died he legitimized her brother Jon Snow. The war of the seven kingdoms ended with Daenerys, the last Targaryen, sitting upon the Iron Throne. After successfully defeating her enemies, including the white walkers and wildlings, she granted Jon Snow, now Stark, the honor of becoming The King in the North leaving her with the other six kingdoms. Jon wasted no time rebuilding his home, but the devastation that the Bolton’s had left in their wake had taken its toll on Winterfell. The only parts of the castle that were left unharmed were the crypts and surprisingly the Godswood.  
It took Jon roughly two years to rebuild Winterfell with the aid of Queen Daenerys and all of her men.  
And it took Arya another two years for her to find her way back home. 

“Arya?”

Startled out of her thoughts, she spun around quickly holding needle out before her. Jon held his hands up, a mixture of surprise and horror filling his eyes; his gaze travelled between her and needle. Arya slowly lowered her blade, and sheathed it, her heart beating a mile per minute.  
“Sorry,” She mumbled crossing her arms over her chest, feeling terribly awkward and out of place.  
Arya had only been in Winterfell for barely a day, arriving before dawn, and she already felt like crawling out of her skin, becoming no one. Maybe the house of black and white really is my one true home, she thought to herself.  
Jon took a step closer reaching his hands out as if to touch her, to make sure that she was even there. Instead he dropped them to his sides. His eyes and heart were filled with sadness and he looked much older than his twenty-four years.  
It had been nine years since Arya had last seen her favorite brother, and former best friend. They had both been so close, and now they were merely strangers in each other’s lives. 

“Arya,” He repeated, warily, perceptibly afraid to say the wrong thing.  
She nodded for him to continue. Jon sighed, running his fingers through his locks of wavy black hair.  
“I’ve honestly thought about you returning home a million times. When Sansa found her way back here, I was thrilled. And when Rickon came back with Shaggydog in tow, I was shocked into happiness. Two of my siblings had returned home to me, it was more than I could have ever asked for after such a wretched war.” 

He was rambling and Arya honestly had no idea where he was going with this information, but she had learned to be patient during her time in Braavos, so she waited calmly for him to get to the point.  
“After Robb died, I believed that I would find you. You weren’t at the Red Wedding so I had to cling to the hope that you were still out there alive somewhere. When I received Bran’s bones right before I returned to Winterfell, confirming that he was also gone, I started losing hope. I was informed of every one of my siblings when I was on the wall, every single one, except for you.” He looked away as if in pain, shuddering slightly before he gazed back into Arya’s eyes with an abundance of emotion that she felt all the way in her heart.  
“Most say that you had disappeared after they slay our lord father, only to resurface in time to marry that bastard Ramsey.” Jon sneered his name as if he were the greatest scum in all of Westeros.  
“Did you marry Ramsey Bolton, Arya?”  
Arya looked out towards the courtyard gazing at the few people wandering about and shook her head no.  
Jon sighed in relief and gently grabbed his sister’s chin forcing her to look at him.  
“The last time I saw you, my sweet sister, you were but a child. And now, nine years later, you are a lady grown. Where have you been all this time?”  
Arya turned away from him and grabbed the ledge of the balcony impossibly tighter. During the five years that she had spent in the House of Black and White, she had learned how to keep her composure, show no emotion. But within the few moments she had spent talking with Jon, she could feel what little composure that she had left crumble away.  
“I was Nowhere.”  
Arya saw Jon grit his teeth in frustration and flinched when his steel eyes glared at her.  
“Arya, that is ---“  
“I’m quite tired.” She said, effectively cutting him off.  
His expression turned emotionless as he nodded.  
“Fine. I will show you to your chambers. But Arya, I hope you know that this conversation is far from over.” 

Arya found the rest that she had craved in a room that hardly resembled anything she could remember. Nostalgia gripped her throat, taking her breath away, as it fought for the present to fade to a time long since gone. She gasped for air, but the tears would not come. She would not allow them to. After what felt like days of lying on her featherbed daydreaming about what could have been, though only moments had gone by, she dressed and decided to find Jon. It was time they talked. Of all the people in her life, he deserved to know what had happened to her. He deserved to know everything.  
She wandered the vast halls of the castle, taking in the scenery until she came upon the throne room. The large oak doors were open but just as she was about to enter, the voices from inside stopped her dead in her tracks. 

“Jon, how do we even know if she really is our sister?” A feminine voice that could only belong to Sansa flitted through the room.  
“She looks like her, or at least, how I’d expect her to look all grown up and such.”  
Sansa tsked. “That’s what you’re basing your assumptions on? How she looks? Jon, all of the girls who have come here claiming to be Arya Stark have looked like her. I don’t buy it. And before we go parading her around as our long lost sister I—“  
“The wolves.” Jon stated, cutting Sansa off.  
Sansa huffed, the irritation palpable in her voice. “What are you going on about now?”  
“The wolves, Sansa. Didn’t you hear them howling this morning right before our sister came home? And not just our Direwolves, but all of the wolves that live in the forests surrounding Winterfell were howling. The wolves were what awoke me, to alert me of her presence. Not the guards or anybody else. It was as if they were welcoming her home.”  
Sansa sighed, and from what Arya could see of her face, she looked sad.  
“Jon,” She began, “I know you want nothing more than to have our sister home, but that girl---”  
“Don’t” He grumbled, tired of the arguing.  
Sansa opened her mouth to say something else but just then Rickon rushed past Arya and into the throne room, with Shaggydog in tow. Shaggydog paused briefly, looking at Arya curiously before following his master.  
“Is the bastard Baratheon here yet?” Rickon asked dragging mud with him wherever he walked.  
“Rickon!” Sansa scolded, the look on her face horrified, “Why are you full of mud? And Lord Baratheon is not a bastard any longer, he has been legitimized, remember? Gods. What if he were here to see you looking the way you do? We don’t want him to think that you were raised by wolves. You are a prince of Winterfell, and you need to start acting as such.”  
Rickon looked from Sansa to Shaggydog with a look of pure innocence. “But I was raised by wolves.”  
Jon let out a loud laugh and Arya couldn’t help but smile, finding the proper time to make her presence known.  
“He has not arrived yet, but he should be here anytime now. He sent a raven ahead claiming he has something that belongs to our family,” Jon explained as he caught sight of Arya walking towards them.  
“What does he have?” Rickon asked curiously as he looked at Arya with the same curiosity of his direwolf. He was only three when she had left for Kings Landing so it would make sense if he did not remember her.  
“Let me guess,” Sansa scoffed, “Another Arya Stark.”  
Sansa’s words were laced with venom and Arya felt them deep in her bones as if they were poison.  
Arya tried to remain calm as she looked at her sister, trying to recall everything she had learned in Braavos, but she could feel the ice that resided in her dull eyes being replaced with fire, her temper rising.  
Calm as still water. Calm as still water. Calm as still water.  
She repeated the words she had learned so long ago over and over in her head, but they were doing nothing to calm her.  
Before she could give Sansa a piece of her mind, they were interrupted by the same guard who brought her before her brother when she had arrived in Winterfell.  
“My lords. My ladies,” He greeted bowing slightly, “Lord Baratheon has arrived.”  
Jon looked between his siblings before reaching for both of his sisters’ arms to escort them to the gates where their guest surely waited. Sansa glared at Arya but Arya managed to ignore her as she accepted Jons arm.  
“Before we were surprised by your return, Lord Baratheon sent a raven claiming he has something belonging to our family. As you know well, the Starks and the Baratheons have been allies and friends long before this war and even before the last had began. And now that the wars are over, I thought that rekindling that alliance and friendship would be in our best interest. We were planning a feast for him tonight, and now that you’re back, we can join the feasts” Jon explained as they walked towards the East gate.  


They arrived about the same time that Lord Baratheon rode through the gates followed by his men who were carrying the Baratheon banners and also cargo and some type of cage.  
He climbed off of his horse, with little grace for a lord, and made his way towards them. He removed his helmet as he bowed low before them.  
“My King,” he greeted Jon, his voice deep and somewhat familiar to Arya. Her heart began to pound even though she could not understand why. She could not remember why she knew his voice, but she knew that she had heard it every night in her dreams calling to her.  
As soon as Lord Baratheon lifted his head from his bow his blue eyes met hers.  
The first emotion to grace his features was confusion, followed by recognition and then denial.  
“You are most welcome at Winterfell, Lord Baratheon,” Jon Greeted, oblivious to the staring contest that his guest was having with his sister.  
“We have prepared stables for your horses, rooms for your men, and a glorious feast for after you have settled in. Owww, little sis,” Jon looked down to where Arya was gripping his arm, surprised at just how strong she was for someone so tiny.  
Arya glared at the blue eyed man standing in front of her. He was the same, and yet so different. Age was kind to him, broadening his shoulders, his black hair trimmed, yet still unkempt in a way. Adorning his face was a slight shadow of facial hair growing, and those eyes. She would never forget those eyes, ‘for she saw them every night in her sleep.  
She could feel the heat rising from her cheeks whether it was from anger, hurt, or attraction, she did not know. She let go of Jons arm and took a small step forward watching Lord Baratheons eyes widen in surprise.  
“Arya,” His voice was but a winded whisper, disbelief colored his tone.  
Arya could feel the stares on them and the confusion in the eyes of those who stared, but all she could think about was Gendry, who was standing right before her eyes after so many years, and how the way he said her name had made her insides flutter.  
Thinking back to the last time that she saw Gendry, reminded her that he didn’t want to be anywhere near her. That was why he stayed with the Brotherhood Without Banners. He had abandoned her, feeding her to The Hound.  
“Hello Gendry,” She acknowledged her voice nothing but calmness, a vast difference to the war that was going on inside of her.  
“My Lady---“  
Swift as a deer. Quiet as a shadow. Quick as a snake. Calm as still water. Strong as a bear. Fierce as a wolverine. Fear cuts deeper than swords. Fear cuts deeper than swords…  
Before Gendry could say anything else, Arya wound her arm back and punched him directly in the eye.  
Gasps surrounded Winterfell as Gendry clutched his eye. Rickon let out a laugh, and before Arya could lunge at Gendry and blacken his other eye, Jon grabbed her by the waist pulling her backwards.  
“Don’t call me ‘my lady’ you stupid bull!” Arya shouted as Jon all but dragged her away.  
“Sansa,” Jon bellowed, trying to stop Arya from breaking free, “Please show Lord Baratheon to his chambers. And please fetch him some ice for his eye. My sincerest apologies, Gendry. Please forgive my sister for I have no idea what has come over her.”  
To Arya’s surprise Gendry let out a chuckle. “It’s quite alright. Nothing I’m not used to.”  


Jon was eerily silent as he all but dragged a kicking Arya back into the throne room closing the wooden doors with a resounding thud.  
“Do you mind explaining to me what in the seven hells that was back there?”  
Arya let out a grumble only to cause Jons glare to deepen.  
“Arya,” he snapped, making her cringe in response.  
“If I explain this to you, I will have to start at the beginning.”  
Jon sat on one of the massive thrones gesturing for her to take a seat on the other.  
“I’m waiting,” Jon said impatience clear in his voice.  
With a deep breath, she began.  


“I left Kings Landing before our fathers blood had even cooled. Yoren, a recruiter for the nights watch knew father and had met me briefly. He cut my hair and disguised me as one of the boys he was taking to the wall. Yoren planned on dropping me off at Winterfell on the way. Gendry just so happened to be another one of the misfits bound to take the black. Some goldcloaks came and were looking for Gendry, though nobody knew why at the time. When we all refused to give him up to them, they killed Yoren, and took the rest of us as their prisoners. They transported us to Harrenhal and tried to torture us into telling them about The Brotherhood Without Banners, but we had no idea of who they were at the time. Just as they began to torture Gendry, Tywin Lannister showed up and in a way saved his life. He made Gendry a smith in the forge and made me his cup bearer. Back before Yoren died, I saved three prisoners who were caged, and one of the prisoners vowed to repay me for it. He helped us escape Harrenhal by killing Tywin’s guards, and that is how we came across the Brotherhood. They took us hostage to ask us questions. They were going to set us free until the Hound came along and recognized me. After that, the brotherhood decided to ransom me to Robb and my mom, at the Twins. Gendry was supposed to come with me; I was going to have him smith for Robb. Instead he abandoned me, choosing the Brotherhood over me, which hurt me to the core. He was my best friend and he was supposed to be there with me. I ran into the woods and that’s about the time that the Hound decided to kidnap me because he wanted to ransom me to Robb instead.”  
Jon was staring at her, listening intently, when all of a sudden the doors to the throne room were thrust open and slammed shut making Jon and Arya both jump.  
“Well, that’s not exactly the ending that I remember to our little tale, my lady, but by all means please continue. I’m interested in knowing where you ran off too.”  
Gendry walked right up to Arya and sat at her feet making himself comfortable.  
Arya glared at him, eyes burning. “What makes you think that I will tell you anything,” She fumed, “You deserted me and now you are pretending as if that never happened.”  
Gendry’s face became solemn, almost pained as his blue eyes stared into her stark grey ones. “Arya, I did not abandon you.”  
“Liar!” She shouted, about to leap off of the throne she sat upon to attack him.  
“That is enough!” Jon thundered, his voice echoing off of the throne rooms walls.  
“By the gods, finish your story. We haven’t got all day.”  
Arya really did not want to continue on, now that Gendry was present, but she felt as though Jon would lock her away in here until she told him everything.  
Sighing deeply, wringing her hands together, she continued.  


“After the Hound kidnapped me, we made our way for the Twins. When we arrived it was just in time for the reception to Uncle Edmures wedding.”  
Jon let out a gush of air, and Gendry’s face turned ashen.  
“Arya, please tell me you weren’t there for the red wed—“  
“I was there,” She whispered, “ I saw them kill Grey Wind and I saw them cut his head off and place it on top of Robb’s body as they paraded his corpse around the Twins. I don’t remember much after that, but I know that the Hound knocked me out and took me away from there and tried to ransom me to Aunt Lysa instead. But when we found out that she was dead, we left the Eyrie. He said that he was going to sell me to the Blackfish, but I think he was exhausted and had grown used to my companionship. In a way, we looked out for each other. I didn’t feel like his prisoner anymore. As we travelled further away from my past, we ran into a lady knight, whose name I can’t recall. She told me that my mother had hired her to bring me and Sansa home. Then her and the Hound began to fight, and she fatally injured him. I hid from her until I was certain she was gone and then I left the Hound to die. After that, I sailed to Braavos, escaping Westeros. I stayed there for five years, learning in the House of Black and White. They taught me how to become faceless, no one.”  
Jon looked horrified as Gendry cleared his throat clearly uncomfortable.  
“You became an assassin.” Gendry stated, knowingly. “Like that man, Jaqen, who helped us escape Harrenhal.”  
Arya nodded, suddenly ashamed of telling them anything. There was no way that either of them could understand.  
Jon stood and slowly walked over to her careful not to step on Gendry. When he stood directly in front of Arya, he pulled her to her feet and into his arms.  
“Little sister,” He murmured into her hair, his voice filled with anguish, “I always knew you were brave and tougher than the rest of us, but I never wanted this life for you.”  
Arya sighed, taking a step back. “What’s done is done. I’ve changed my face so many times that it is almost like second nature now. I’ve killed many men, and women. After all, all men must die. But once I found out from a sailor that the Starks were back in Winterfell, and that the wars were over, I knew I had to come back to Westeros. My place is here, my family is here.” Though Arya was saying the words to Jon, she was looking at Gendry, and he at her.  
A sob escaped from the doorway and they all turned to see Sansa with tears streaming down her face.  
“You really are my sister,” She sobbed, and Arya felt the urge to roll her eyes and smile all at once. Some things never change, like Sansa for instance. She was the same sister she remembered, though there was a certain edge to her, hardness if you will. After all, war does that to people, even people as delicate as Sansa.  
The siblings took their time reuniting, not even noticing that Gendry had disappeared just after Sansa had entered. He cleared his throat and they all turned to him.  


“In my letters, I informed you that I had something that belonged to your family, more specifically Arya. Now that I know for sure that she is alive, it’s time to give back what I’ve been protecting for her.”  


Arya frowned clearly confused by his words. What could Gendry possibly have that belonged to her?  
Just then a wolf came bounding into the throne room, but not just any kind of wolf, a direwolf. Arya gasped and tears filled her eyes as the wolf stopped directly in front of her. “Nymeria,” She whispered before wrapping her arms around the direwolf’s neck.” I can’t believe you’ve had her,” She sobbed, as Nymeria licked her face, “Where did you find her?” When no answer came she looked up only to see that Gendry had left them all alone again.  
“By the gods,” Sansa whispered looking at Jon. They shared a knowing look, both wondering when Arya had allowed herself to fall in love.  


Arya found Gendry in the Godswood, staring at the weirwood tree, his brow furrowed as if deep in thought.  
“Don’t think too hard, you might hurt yourself.” She teased, unsure of what else to say. To her own ears, she sounded childish, but the last time that she had seen Gendry she was, in fact, a child.  
He spun around only to be surprised at how close she was and couldn’t help but memorize her. She was a woman grown now, no longer the child he had considered family. She had grown so beautiful and it was hard to look away from her. She held his gaze raising an eyebrow.  
“Where did you find Nymeria?” Arya asked her eyes sparkling, looking almost silver in the dim light. Gendry, momentarily transfixed by her eyes smiled slightly at the memory. “Actually, she found me when I was out looking for you. I remembered the stories you used to tell me about her, and when she knocked me to the ground staring into my eyes intently, I knew she was yours. You’re the only person who has ever looked at me like that.”  
Arya let out a sniffle and crossed her arms over her chest. “I couldn’t feel her.” She whispered, sadly. “When I was a child and she was here with me, I could always feel her presence.” Gendry had no idea what to tell her, He didn’t want to say anything that she would deem stupid, so instead he told her the truth.  


“I didn’t desert you,” He whispered, taking a step forward.  
Arya frowned, but decided to hear him out rather than argue.  
“I looked for you. I followed you out of the forge after you ran off and I couldn’t find you. Harwin and I spent years tracking you. He thought that you had died at the red wedding, but I had a feeling in my gut that you were still alive, and here you are five years later,” His voice cracked slightly as he told her that. Arya was silent for a moment taking in everything that he had just admitted. For five years Arya had tried to forget Gendry and the hurt that he had caused her heart. In the end, it was all just a stupid misunderstanding.  


“I dreamt of you, you know.” Arya whispered suddenly, causing Gendry to eye her in wonder. Every night I dreamt of your eyes, and your voice. You were always calling for me, looking for me. Maybe I was seeing you through Nymeria’s eyes this whole time.”  
Gendry didn’t know what came over him, but that was the moment he knew that he wanted her, no, needed her now more than ever before in his life. He could no longer live without Arya Stark by his side and he’d be damned if he ever let her go again.  


“By staying with the Brotherhood, I thought I would be able to be worthy of you. If they were to knight me, I thought that maybe you would look at me not as your bastard best friend, but as a man, who was starting to look at you as his everything.”  


Heat pooled in the pit of Arya’s stomach and her eyes widened in shock.  


“What are you saying?” She asked, her voice coming out a little more breathless than she had hoped it would.  
Gendry took another step closer until he was mere inches away from her. 

“What I’m saying is that I love you Arya Stark. I’m in love with you, and I have loved you since the first time you called me stupid and pushed me to the ground.”  


Arya, though giddy inside, reacted the only way she knew how to, and threw a punch at Gendry’s good eye, only this time he was prepared for it. Catching her hand mid air he pulled her flush against him, and bent down to kiss her. Arya, for once in her life listened to her heart, rather than her brain and moaned throwing herself into the kiss. Her lips parted against his and she reveled in the feel of his hot breath on her mouth and his tongue against hers. They both pulled apart, panting. Gendry couldn’t help but smile broadly and Arya couldn’t contain her smirk.  


“You better wipe that smile off of your face before we walk into the feast tonight,” She warned, as she grabbed a hold of his hand. Gendry squeezed her hand back pulling her against him as they walked out of the Godswood together.  


“As my lady commands.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my first fanfiction! This was not edited, so I take full responsibility for any mistakes. =]


End file.
